


Kirkwall Academy

by Grievous_Girl



Category: Dragon Age (Video Games), Dragon Age - All Media Types, Dragon Age II, Dragon Age: Inquisition, Dragon Age: Origins, Dragon Age: Origins - Awakening
Genre: AU, College AU, Dragon Age: Inquisition - Freeform, F/M, Solas - Freeform, kirkwall academy, lavellan - Freeform, professor solas, solvellan
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2015-09-29
Updated: 2015-10-02
Packaged: 2018-04-24 01:09:30
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence, Major Character Death, Rape/Non-Con
Chapters: 3
Words: 16,275
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/4899739
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Grievous_Girl/pseuds/Grievous_Girl
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Welcome to Kirkwall Academy, a semi-private school for college students to attend classes taught by some of the most outstanding Professors of the age. Go along with Ellana Lavellan, her adopted brother Fenris and adopted sister Merrill, and a whole colorful crew of people throughout the school year - and discover with them the dirty secrets that the Dean keeps just out of sight . . .</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. First Day

**Chapter One – First Day**

I don’t remember much of my childhood, little anything before five years old, but what I do remember has always been with Deshanna Istimaethoriel Lavellan; my adopted Dalish Mother, who given her age was more like a Grandmother.

She worked as a foster parent for CPS, an old woman was who gave me a home, love, and compassion. She helped children like me who were stuck in continuous loop of loneliness, mostly elves and the unwanted; Human children with anger issues, Qunari kids who outaged foster homes, and sickly dwarven infants who were given up just because they “couldn’t hear the stone”. Deshanna gave warm rooms, warm hugs, and a comfortable place in her household for all. 

For many of the children it was the first time they felt truly loved. Deshanna was a kind and loving woman like that, despite the predispositions about how Dalsih were close minded; of that she was far from.

She was a keeper and I became her first as I came of age, in charge of helping her around the house and caring for the other children. I learned the rules with ease, finding a fit in the nurturing role given to me. Some kids came and went as quickly as they arrived, but others stuck around; building ourselves a small family in time.

I was the oldest and most settled of the three adopted into the Lavellan clan, Ellana Lavellan. If I was not up to my elbows in helping Deshanna, I indulged myself in the past with Elven books and history lessons. At times I would find my mind drifting into the wonder of who the lost parents I never knew, but that folly never lasted long.

Next came a rather troubled brother named Fenris Lavellan, his manner mostly dark and doom, but he had a good heart and mind where it counted; despite his spattered collisions with the law. Fenris would either spend his time helping repair things about the house or alone in his room, a place where his brooding seemed to fester. His clothes were a jumble of worn leathers, frayed jeans, broken shoes, and boxing gear - paired with his dark olive eyes and sunkissed skin. To top it all off Fenris had brilliant white hair, surprisingly a natural tone that shined like silk. 

After Fenris came our sister Merrill Lavellan, third eldest to all the youths about the home, and the one we all could relate to. As where Fenris and I were a bit more mature, Merrill was the most childlike of us older kids; sweetly naïve and overly compassionate. Still she always made the world feel brighter with her jokes and gentle nature. Merrill’s looks consisted of warm floral prints, braided black ponytails, bright green eyes, and layers of tights and a dresses. 

In becoming a family we were all given the chance to better ourselves, and as the years went by a huge goal came before we three - College. 

I had actually been attending college level courses at an alternative school outside of my homeschooling, but I held back from actually transferring into a four-year till Fenris and Merrill could follow suite; half out of worry for my siblings and half out of fear for my own well being. One would hear all manner of wild college tales from the news or the papers, even gossip from the prep classes I attended, and they all seemed so messy, so scary. I did not want to face College alone. Alas the first day of school came quicker than I wished it, our bags packed and settled into the family car; an unknown concern filling the air for quite sometime. 

Fenris attempted to break the silence. “So, you will be starting as a Junior, barely getting in before you break out.” He sounded slightly jealous. 

“So?” I sighed softly from the driver’s seat, eyes darting to check the rearview mirror. 

“Oh, why matter who is where? Take in the day Da’fen, it’s so exciting!” Merrill chirped from the back seat, that freshmen attitude of hers not dimming for one second as she addressed Fenris; our little wolf. She was the most delighted to go to school, her smile wide as beaming eyes looked out the window. “All of us together even here. Learning, growing-” She gasped with delight. “Oh-We can even share the same lunch table!”

Fenris looked into the backseat, his leather jacket squeaking against the leather seat; a heavy brow raised. “You do know that it will be only you and I in the same classes, right?”

“I know, but the lunch table is still viable!” Merrill, the forever optimist.

I parked in a space far from the front gates of the school, seeing as how most of the closer spaces were already filled. We filed out of the car, sticking close as we looked to our new world. Kirkwall Academy. The college was a mix of upper-class and middle-class clash, co-ed dorms, and racial diversity. Or at least that was what we had been told. 

On the lawn sat a littering of students - some enjoying a breakfast down time before classes would start, while others were preemptively looking in texts and reading notes. All manner of stereotype from all manner of culture was around, save for the familiar Dalish. Wonderful.

Fenris looked on in uninterest, a complete opposite to Merrill’s unkempt enthusiasm at it all.  
I focused on the golden, spiraling spires of the old stone buildings, decorated with paned-glass windows, rambling ivy vines, and dragonic gargoyles peeking out from their mounts; cracks and cloaks creeping in and outside the corridors. How very Tevinter. A mix of the old Marcher States could be seen here and there, but it took a very keen eye to spot the differences. To me it seemed . . . jumbled; as if someone had been trying to purposely add the Tevinter flavors over top preexisting additions. Odd.

The Interior was certainly a bit more disorderly in appearance then it’s facade had been, Ferelden floor rugs clashing with the Orlesian chandeliers. The brass Nevarran Skull door knobs finally pushed the decor over the edge. It was as if the School’s Board of Directors couldn’t decide on the same decorations and compromised by meshing them all together in some ditch effort of cohabitation. Even more Odd.

Check in was fairly simple, our school badges and schedules in hand with ease; considering most of our registration was handled by Deshanna weeks beforehand.

“Alright, we meet for lunch at quarter after? At the park, beside the car?” I asked my siblings, kind conforming smiles beaming at me as they nodded in unision. They must have felt my anxiousness, attempting to silently reassure me that things would be ok.“A-and Fenris, you’ll make sure Merrill doesn’t get lost. Merrill, remember the maps are-”

My sister gave her reply in a hug, embracing me tightly. Even with her being the youngest at times Merriell felt so mature. “We’ll keep out of trouble.” The dark haired elf spoke, a giggle in her words. “If Fenris tries to go after anyone I’ll make sure his leash is tight.” That earned her an annoyed glare from our brother, but a chuckle from myself.

“And if she ends up lost, I’ll go find her . . . maybe.” Fenris got a small shove from Merrill, which drew out yet another deep chuckle in my chest.

“Heh, alright then . . . quarter past.” I nodded and watched the two walk away, side by side as they disappeared into the crowds. I had waited there for what felt like hours, watching their long after Fenris and Merrill vanished; yet I had a class to get to, snapping back into reality with a shake of my head. Eyes set down to my schedule a, reading the printed words. “Introduction to Public Speaking, Professor D. Pavus. Room D8, 9:30am till 10:30am.”

I detested speaking to strangers, Deshanna knew this, and must have enrolled me in this class to help push me out of my comfort zone; like any good Keeper would do for their First. Fantastic. Thankfully and unknown to me, the teacher was a blessing in disguise. 

The teacher, Mr.Pavus, wore an all cream suit that was trimmed with golden buttons on the sleeves; fancy and flashy. Under that lay a dark green, velvet vest, and a white button-up shirt under. His skin was flawless, more akin to a model than a professor, with dark gelled hair setting an angled face and diamond studded ears. Would he dress like this every day? I doubted it. This seemed for more first impressions then anything.

As we all filled in the Professor could not help but smile, pearly white teeth almost glittering in the morning light; the air about him both whimsical and demanding for the glow. Had he purposely put himself and the desk in that light? It certainly did make the gold in his outfit scream.

“Good Mornings Students!” Even his voice sounded wonderful.

We echoed with a resounding “Good Morning Professor.”

Introductions to the class were made and the course syllabus was laid out. With one quick reading of the rules and restrictions, which there were little of each, the Professor had us perform our first exercise. We had to stand up and go great our peers one by one; leaving a lone wanderer popping back and forth up the aisles while everyone watched and waited. As I watched I took note of many of the students, most human, and all very relaxed; but it was not a good relaxed. It was more like they didn’t care, their handshakes weak and tempered. 

There was only one boy that stood out, pale with white blonde and deep set eyes. His hand was slender but far from fragile, like a sturdy cutting knife. His name was Cole, just Cole. He didn’t give us a last name, which I found a tad off since we were supposed to give last names; but Mr.Pavus didn’t seem to mind. As Cole approached me I gave him a gentle smile, our hands meeting with the same gentleness. The lad spoke first, a tone that was present yet distant at the same time. “Hello.”

“Hello.” I replied, shaking out joined digits firmly.

“I am called Cole. What is your name?”

“I’m Ellana Lavellan. It is-”

“Lavellan . . . that is a very old name.”

“What?”

“Your name. Lavellan. She . . .” Cole went silent for a few moments, merely looking into my eyes as we still held hands. I could feel the others looking intently at us, and normally I would have felt extremely awkward, but all those twitching emotions almost felt lost in his eyes. “Nevermind. It’s good to see you.” And with that Cole was gone, moving fluidly back to his seat like a ghost. But ghosts were scary, and the human was far from scary. Perhaps then what would have been more accurate . . . was a spirit.

“You to . . .” My whisper of words had barely managed to escape my lips, eyes stuck on Cole for a few seconds longer. But soon came my turn and I had to put the straying thoughts to rest for a while.

More faces seemed to click into memory as I greeted them, particularly another blonde; but this time elven and female. Her hair looked like she let a small child cut it, but I kept that out of my expression when greeting her. “Hello. I am Ellana Lavellan.”

“Sera Emmald.” Her fingers were squirrely in the embrace and voice a bit lazily, like she had a cold or something. Her clothes were almost as loud as Mr.Pavus’s, neon yellow tights put with running sneakers and green socks. Her top had looked like it was once a nice name brand, but so worn and torn by now that it resembled rags. Around her neck was more neon yellow in the shape of a loosely bandana, and around her chest was a mail carrier bag covered in small embossed bees.

“It is good to meet you.”

“Yeah yeah, greetings over. Bye!” She shooed me away with flashy blue and green nails, some of the bracelets on her wrist jingling like small bells. This Sera was a cute as a bee, and just as annoying. I bowed my head and went on my way, greeting the rest of the class before returning to my seat. I did give her another glance backwards, but that only got me a small silent raspberry. 

Rude . . . yet characteristic on her first impression. 

The hour went by quickly and we were left with homework. Professor Pavus thought It would be interesting for a show-and-tell for the next day, and that involved an object of our choice to talk about in front of the class . . . and then a 3-paged speech to go with it. Joy.

After Mr.Pavus’s class came Mrs. S. Cadash’s class. This class was a Geology 101, Earth Sciences, where we would learn about different materials and minerals, their structures, their processes, and how organisms have changed the base elements over time. The stout dwarf made a very clear point on her irritation on bird fecal matter and how it would help erode even the most densest of rocks; pigeons notably. She seemed a tad obsessed on that point, but everyone had to have a hobby and it was interesting to hear about her restoration work on some statues about campus.. 

Next came Mr. N. Howe, a brown haired human with a soothing voice and calm demeanor. He taught not only the entrance level History Classes, but was also the signed endorser for the Archery Club. I had my fair share of history classes before Kirkwall, but I did enjoy the subject in general; it didn’t hurt to take a repeat.

**. . .**

Finally 1pm rolled around, a quarter before I had to meet up with Fenris and Merrill for lunch, so I wandered and walked about the halls of the academy in silent contemplation. There were definitely more Human attendees then Elven. There were even more Dwarfs than elvs. I could not help but let me mind slip into a somewhat somber thought . . .

Deshanna was one of the few Dalish left in the city at the time, many sticking to caravans in the wilds or living on government endorsed reservations. She wished to recreate Clan Lavellan and adopted children to do so. But Fenris acted more human than Elven, and open minded Merrill was to curious about other people to stick to the Dalish studies. Neither were good for the Dalish lifestyle, while myself on the other hand could have lived the lifestyle with ease; the simplicity of it all very appealing.

It seemed peaceful, far away from the roughness of cities and their overpopulation. It would have been a joy to live out in the wilds, surrounded by life and left to the will unprogrammed will of nature. Being Dalish would have been interesting, and It would have made Deshanna proud . . . but besides the romantic idea of it all . . . would being Dalish made me feel complete? Unlikely. With a little shake of my head I turned to head outside and to the park, the planned meeting spot for us to rendaivu. 

I saw naught of my brother or sister, checking my watch with an unsettled tapping of my foot. 20 minutes passed and they were late; perhaps caught up in the hallway traffic? With a little sigh I went to find a comfortable spot under a nearby tree, a willow with swaying ropes in the cool fall breeze. It was . . . relaxing, calming, almost enough to warrant a nap; but no, I had at least another class after this. No naps!

“UF-!” It was then my foot hit something, someone, a startled gruff coming from below my peripheral vision. I had been looking up at the swinging willow that I hadn't bothered to pay attention to what lay under my feet; deep red boots squishing a well-dressed arm. I blushed in embarrassment, stepping off the man with my own shocked noise; almost dropping my planner on his face in the startle.

“I-I am so sorry! Are-Are you ok, Sir?” I asked with a rather squeaky tone, giving the injured party a quick look over. Besides where my Doc Marten's left their dirty print I saw no more damage.

The man, an Elf, had been lying amongst the heavy roots of the tree – a bag under his bald head like a pillow, and a small blanket laid out so that his dark brown suite would not get dirty. Had he been napping? Was he a student, or-I had not released he had not spoken yet; looking at me as I was looking at him. I suddenly felt more than embarrassed, awkward, estranged, and slightly creeped out. The man’s brows creased together, as if he was deeply upset by the misstep. 

“Uh . . . Sir?”

“Forgive me, I was caught off guard. Most at the Academy stick to the main lawn.” With a little grunt the bald elf sat up, rubbing the dirt off his jacket’s surface with a few swipes. “But alas, my spot has been compromised.” A smile moved up to me, calm and understanding. 

“I, uh . . . Right. Do you need help?” I offered my free hand, but the man refused; shaking his head before standing up. Funny thing about perception, he had seemed rather thin and short when laying down, but once risen the man loomed over me in height; oddly tall for an elf. I waited a bit before speaking again, letting us both catch out bearings. “D-Do you go to Kirkwall?”

He nodded, bowing his head as he spoke. “I do.”

“Are you a student?”

“Do I look as such?”

At his question I looked at his clothes once more, reading each fabric and piece as if it were a novel. His suite was dark brown, older by the handmade patches at the elbows and threading at the cuff. The buttons were a marbled, black resin, dark brown slacks wrinkled slightly, and oxford shoes dulled as if they had not seen polish in years. The vest underneath the jacket was a deep green plaid, complete with golden trim and a small pocket for pencils. His white collar was slightly upturned and his bow tie was lopsided. With the tattered leather bag tossed over his shoulder and the worn blanket fooled in the cork of his left arm . . . it was hard to tell just what he was.

“ . . .Honestly Sir, I’ve seen homeless people who pretty much dress the same.”

“A rather blunt conclusion.”

“Sorry sir, but you did ask.”

“Hm, Indeed I did.” Another smile of his, followed by a brief chuckle; guttural and through clenched teeth.

“So, a Professor?” My reward was a nod. “What . . . What would cause a Professor to sleep outside? Don’t you all have like a special, VIP, no-students-allowed area to rest in?”

“There is such a place, but I find it . . . rather crowded this time of day.”

“Ah.” It was my turn to nod now, looking form the Professor’s clothes back to his face; taking in every detail. 

It wasn’t a particularly outstanding face - bald and shiny all over with small eyes, a long nose, and decently shaped lips. He did have a rather interesting dent in his chin, the features set with high cheekbones and a chiseled jaw. Overall he was a fairly easy portrait, mostly standing out as his head shined in the dim shade of the willow. “Then I suppose I shall see you in school, Professor?”

“Hm, perhaps. Dareth shiral.” My eyes went wide and watched the unnamed professor walk away, heading back towards the gates of Kirkwall; mind stuck on what he had just said. Dareth shiral, that was Elven! Deshanna had said that many un-clanned Elves did not know the old language of their ancestors, and it was a rare find to come across such individuals . It was oddly sensational to hear someone then her speaking Elven, his voice buzzing in my skull while I waited.

Finally after what felt like hours Fenris and Merrill made their way out the front gate and to the park, packed lunches already open; eating as they walked. “What took you to long?” I asked, already nibbling on my sandwich.

“Little-Miss-Curious here,” Fenris said with a mouthful, nodding to Merrill with disdain in his gaze. “, couldn’t just let the damned teacher finish his overview without asking 700 questions.”

“Well, he has such funny rules for a Math teacher.” The youngest snapped a carrot in half before answering. “I just wanted to be sure of all the functions on the calculator that weren’t allowed! I didn’t even know it could do such things.”

I gave a small giggle, shaking my head. “Well, curiosity sated?”

“Yes, for the moment.” She gave a stout nod and went on about her day thus far. Fenris joined in, adding a comment here and there so I could get a better picture of what–was-what. As they spun their stories I could almost see it all in my head, but something was blocking the whole picture.

The bald professor, his face in the shadow of the willow’s vines, even my footprint upon his sleeve. I should have asked for his name, at least his surname so I could greet him like a proper teacher. That blank space however was not empty for long . . .

**. . .**

After lunch was over and I bid my siblings farewell I went on to room D7, my next class right across the way from Mr.Pavus’s own lecture hall. I had tried to see if I could catch a glimpse of the human teacher near his desk, but his back was turned and busy writing on his board. Even from behind he looked heavenly. I had no doubt that that even on the first day Mr.Pavus was building a fanbase.

D7 was facing the inside of the school with a rather nice view of the inner courtyard, but the room itself was so dim; no direct sunlight coming in our windows. The only light source were the large light fixtures high above, an eerie yellow glow coming from them.  
I noted the teacher was absent, the only sign of their presence being a bag and a few other possessions sitting upon the oak desk. I gave a small shrug to myself and moved to sit in the front role, drawing out my schedule once more to see the Professor's name . . . Mr. S. Harel. Maybe this Mr.Harel went out to the water fountains for a quick sip of water? It couldn’t have been easy on a teacher’s voice speaking and giving lectures all day; again and again and again. I knew even with the kids at home I tried out quickly, my 64 ounces of water almost empty as soon as it was filled.

In the moments before class started I gave quick looks at the others there, attempting to get a feel for who I would be with for the next few months. All Elven, all thin and beautiful. Didn’t surprise me given the class was Ancient Elven History 202. 

My thoughts were broken by voice coming from the door, the first quick to recognize. “Ah my good man, there you are! Napping again I take it?” That was Professor Pavus. 

“And the concern would be?” I sat upright at the second man’s voice, pointed ears shifting to try and hear it better. It . . .couldn’t have been, nah, it just couldn’t have been.

“For you? None. For your sense of fashion? Absolutely. Think of what the students should think if you have grass stains on your cuffs – the scandal! Our good Lady Vivienne would have another fit.”

“Let her then.” 

“Bold as ever, my bald friend.” The conversation stopped as our instructor entered the doorway, closing it behind himself. I felt my heart beat rapidly and stomach flip at seeing the professor from earlier, the bald one. He seemed too rushed to notice me, those blue eyes moving about us with the same rushed manner as Mr.Harel walked to his desk.

He called out. “Good Afternoon class.”

We answered in unison, my words softer than usual for the cat caught my tongue tightly. “Good Afternoon Professor.”

“Welcome to Ancient Elven History. Before we get started I wish to-” Mr.Harel was caught off by the door slamming open, yet another familiar bundle of blonde and neon breaking into sight. Sera looked as if she had run her whole way here, breathing hard and eyes set in the most angered glare. We waited to see if she would say anything, but it was the professor that spoke first. “May I help you?”

Sera spoke between broken raspy breaths, the frustration in her expression burning bright even as she looked at the professor on his plateau. “This that elfy class?”

“Pardon?”

“The class with all the old elfy stuff? With all the,” It was finally she caught sight of me and the others, shoulders going limp in seconds with a loud groan. “, Elves . . . all elfy.”

“May I see your schedule, please?” Mr.Harel asked, a slender pale arm and hand reaching towards her. Once the crumpled slip of paper was laid out he spoke again, reading the faded words there at the same time. “You may take your seat, Ms.Emmald.”

Sera clicked her tongue, ears laying back in signs of anger and submission.“Yes. Sir.” She took back her schedule and looked to the other seats in the room, yet another groan escaping her pouted lips. It seemed she didn’t know anyone here, only me by acquaintance, which was all I could assume that made her sit right next to me. Literally right next to me, her bee bag loud and clanky as she slumped there.

The awkwardness was not eased as I could feel the Professor’s gaze right on us, lost for a few moments in his stormy eyes. I almost wanted to speak up, but it was too late as he turned and begun to write on the whiteboard.

By the time the class was over Sera had doodled several pictures of Mr.Harel’s face with very silly and offensive expressions, littered here and there were curse words and bees. Sera must have had a thing for bees, bees and butts. I could not help but smile, thinking of the young Trevelyan back home who drew in the same style. 

The Professor's voice came back to my senses, gaze back up to the man as he finished. “-and page 16. Remember that standardized composition notebook is needed by the end of this week with your full name printed on the front.”

The bell rang and the other elven students begun to pack up their bags, and I would have joined them for not a small issue. I half expected Sera to dart out as quickly as she came in, but instead she remained sitting at my side, looking at me now with a rather mischievous glint in her big eyes. I stared back, unsure as what to say. 

Excuse me? Could you please move? Or maybe stop looking at me?

She spoke before I could. “You’re that Levy chick, right?”

“Huh?”

“From Mr.Fancy-Pants class?”

“You mean Mr.Pavus?”

“Yeah, him, whatever. Knew your face the second I laid eye on you, to efly not to forget it even if I wanted to.” I wasn’t sure as to take that as compliment or insult, but Sera went on. “Your parents force you to?”

“F-Force me . . . to do-?”

“Come here, be here!” She waved her Neon cladded arms into the air, motioning about the room. “Old lady of mine said to come here, be good for my soul she said. Psh! Yeah right! Boring!”

“Your soul? That seems a tad . . . extreme?”

“I know right? That’s what I said!” Sera’s smile was almost as colorful as the neon attire she wore, rocking in her seat to get up. “Stupid old tit didn’t care though, didn’t listen. Hmph!” The girl stretched into the air, back cracking loudly as she did so; making my own spine shiver at the unsettling sounds. “Names Sera, but you knew that. What was yours again?”

I sighed, standing as well. “Ellana Lavellan.”

“Eh, I’m just gonna go with Levy!”

“Uh, actually I wish you would-”

“Later Levy! Take good notes, yeah?” I had no idea someone could move that fast, even an elf, rushing to the door like a bee zipping in the air; here in an instant and gone in a flash. To be honest I was left a tad stunned at her departure, waiting for my mind to catch up before moving.

“Miss.Lavellan – a word?” Mr. Harel called from his podium, eyes bearing down onto an open folder, his nimble hands busy writing something down in it’s contents. Getting called one-on-one by the teacher on the first day, was never good; made worse by our first interaction in the park. Stepping on someone never made a good first impression. I braced myself for the worse when approaching him.

“Yes Sir?”

He paused in his writing, looking at me over the lenses of his glasses.“Should Miss.Emmald interfere with your studies I wish for you to tell me immediately.”

“I . . .do not think Sera will be a problem, Sir. She is harmless despite . . .well-”

“Nevertheless, should any issues arise please come to me as soon as possible. You have my email, work number,” The male nodded to the pre-made folder with all his information plastered onto its purple cover. It was a rather nice folder, then again it was a rather nice school so they applied all the best supplies to their students. “-Lavellan?”

“Huh-” It had retracted back out of my own mind, eyes re-focusing on Mr.Harel as he spoke my name. “Yes?”

“Do you understand?”

“Yes. Yes Sir.” Not really, but I didn’t want my teacher to be scarce with me; I nodded with a little smile.

“Good, you can leave now should you wish.”

“Oh . . . thank you Sir.” I turned around to exit, but paused mid step. Mr.Harel did not have his jacket on before, the one I stepped on. I did not notice till I had a closer look at his person “Your jacket,” The male’s eyes moved to me once more, inquisitive this time. “, it is ok? I mean, Doc Martians are kinda some serious hardware. I hope they didn’t ruin your outfit?”

The same warm and deep chuckle came from Mr.Harel, removing his glass as to whip them on his vest’s trim. “No, it is not ruined. Merely waiting for me in my car. Thank you for your concern.” He replaced his glasses, his smile returning. It was a rather charming sight, reassuring.

My hair bobbed wildly as I nodded vigorously to my teacher, matching his smile. “Of course, Professor. Dareth shiral, Hahren”

“Dareth shiral . . . da’len.”

**. . .**

Fenris and Merrill had beaten me to our car, my brother leaning on it’s hood while Merrill kept look out on the canopy. I shouted from a few meters away. “Merrill, get done from there! How many times do I gotta tell you?!”

“Abelas, lethallan.” She said while quickly sliding down the tired leather, landing on the trunk’s lid with a soft thud.

“What was the hold up?” Fenris asked, coming up from his resting to look at me with hazel eyes. “Aren’t you supposed to be the timely, orderly one?”

“Stiff it and get off the hood! You’ll dent it, then Deshanna’s gonna harp at me for it.” He too obeyed and removed himself from the metal, moving to the front passenger door. But Merrill had beaten him to it, an irritated grumbled breaking from his lips as he entered the back seat instead. Once we were all settled I asked “So, good first day?”

Apparently for Merrill it was one of the best days she ever had, while for Fenris it was at least ‘better than high school’. I knew Deshanna would want more from both of them, but I wasn’t going to be the needle to pop the bubble. I smiled and listened while driving out of the parking lot, the later afternoon sun catching in the rearview mirror. I went to adjust it, and that was when I saw Mr.Harel. Creators smack me then and there if I had not see the hard glare blaring off that bald head of his, almost glittering like holiday lights on fern tree.

Mr.Harel was packing himself into his own car, a small four-door like Deshanna’s, but older with rust on the doors and paint chips on his bumper. The vehicle had obviously seen better days. I lost sight of him as the male elf ducked into the driver’s door, something in his backseat blocking the view of his headrest. I gave up and looked forward once more, stopping at a stop sign.

I had thought most of the Teacher’s lived on Campus, making it easier for themselves rather the traveling back and forth to a homestead. If not for the comfort of it then surely to save gas? It was curious either way.

“What of you?” Fenris asked calmly, those eyes locked on me once more. “Good day?”

The blue car of my estranged professor pulled up behind us, waiting for the red light to change, and I hoped he did not see me in my own rearview. It made me nervous to think if he caught me watching him, or that I would have been watching anyone. Only really creepy people watched other’s intently.

Still a rosy grin spread across my face, my head giving a little nod as the light changed green. “Yes, a very good day.”


	2. Extracurricular

**Chapter Two – Extracurricular**

With the second day came four new classes and a mandatory “extracurricular activity tour”. It was Kirkwall’s way of making sure all its students were involved with something besides their normal classes; to build camaraderie and bonds. In other words, clubs.

Students were given a wide arrangement of groups to pick from ranging for all interests, such as crossfit, scrapbooking, knitting groups, writers workshops, etc; most anything one could think of. Sponsoring Teachers and Students set up booths and tables long before the general masses were allowed to peruse, decorated with themes of their chosen passion in hopes to draw the e  
Fenris lead Merrill and myself in and out of the lines of people, the pack leader for this adventure; our little wolf. He was always good for crowded situations. “Come on.” He’d call back to us if we fell behind, waiting patiently with his hands in his pockets; acting as uninterested in the gatherings as he usually did - that was until we passed a specific table that caught his attention.

It was the Physical Education Director’s booth, a rather tall and handsome human by the name of Mr.Cullen Rutherford; but he seemed more keen to “Sir” then “Mr.Rutherford”. He Always reminded me of a knight of sorts, however topped with glowing golden hair instead of a helmet. Along his face sat spatters of scars and a stubbed beard that would use a trim. Oh yes, It was easy to see where many of the ladies gazes went that day. 

Mr.Rutherford noticed Fenris’s lingerg gaze on one of the boxing pamphlets, speaking to the dark elf with a strong smile. “Interested in hand-to-hand?”

“Huh? Oh. Yes Sir, a little.” Fenris actually had his own set up in the basement of Deshanna’s house, filled with all manner of weight lifting equipment and punching bag that Merrill and I made from scratch. Becoming part of sports programs at Kirkwall defiantly seemed a fancy fit for my Fenris. “I’m actually a bit surprised that this school would allow something as rough as boxing; where someone could actually get hurt, might bleed.” Both men smiled and had a rather decent chat, to my surprise. Fenris took a flyer, several flyers in fact, and then we moved on.

I thought for Merrill the choice would have been easy,maybe gardening since she kept her own garden back home, but she had so many pamphlets and leaflets in her arms that my assurity was lost. She was particularly giddy after speaking to the Journalism teacher, sponsor of the school newspaper and the Debate Team; a dwarf whose smile might have been bigger then his whole person. 

Professor Varric Tethras wore an excessive amount gold and red, which might have appeared to tacky for some, but the combination didn’t look bad on his short and hefty build. In fact it made him rather dashing and charming; essential for the physical presence of a debater and writer. A large, chunky necklace jingled at Mr.Tethras’s neck as he moved about.  
Instantly after he caught Merrill’s attention the teacher chimed. “Well, Hello there Miss,” He bowed which made her giggle “, Care to take a step up and browse what my little group has to offer?” A round hand motioned to all his rather fancy booklets, much more detailed to that of what Mr.Rutherford had made.

“You used a real calligraphy pen,” Merrill pointed to a pink bookmark before picking it up, studying it with a twinkle in her emerald eyes. “, didn’t you?” It was more of a statement then a question; she already had her answer when flicking the writing in the sunlight. It had a shine of real ink, even little splatters at the end of the letters as the wrist would move the tip about. Merrill was always good and picking out the little stuff.

“Well knock on the stone and call me a Paragon, you just know how to bark up my tree! So tell me something Daisy,” Odd nickname for someone you just meet, but Merrill didn’t seem to mind. “Ever had the need to get your point across, but just couldn’t do it?” She nodded. 

To a fault, my poor Sister was not very good at getting loud to make her points known, even in spite of her outgoing nature. Unless you got her mad, then pray to the creators that her attention was not on you. “Our Debate team this year is aiming to go to State Finals and we are looking for new members to help reach that goal. Let me get you a-Oh blast.” The dwarf grumbled under his breath, looking about on the ground for something. The little bout of confusion made Merrill giggle again. “I swear I just had it. Did he-Chuckles? Where is the damn-”

“Here, Professor Tethras. Do remember to watch your language, this is not The Hanged Man.” I knew that voice. My head turned to the tone, breath caught on a hitch. Out of nowhere came one of my own personal Professor’s; suddenly at my side like some silent willow-the-wisp, arm filled with a box and several red folders.

“Yeah Yeah, more folder less fodder Chuckles.”

With a heavy sigh the History teacher handed one of the folders out to the Dwarf, which was then given straight to Merrill. At that point I was oblivious of the exchanges about me, eyes locked on Professor Harel as he came around to stand on the opposite side of the table. He looked busy, just as oblivious as I had been to the world about us, lost in organizing masses of papers. I felt the need to speak, at least get his attention with a wave in greetings, but it was as if the words were too terrified to come out.

“-about you?”

My attention was brought quickly away from Professor Harel down to Professor Tethras, blinking away the numbness. “Huh?” I felt stupid for not paying attention, missing the question entirely.

“What about you?” He repeated, holding out a folder to me as well. “Something in your eye just screams detail, key for any good debater.”

“Oh I-um, sure.” I reached out to take the folder, giving him a smile and looking over the cover. It was all handmade, beautifully crafted beyond what I expected for a simple college brochure. In the techniques used to make them reminded me more of the crafts Deshanna did from time to time; something in the edges and color choices. It was familiar. “These are Elven . . . and are beautiful.” I blurted out with a smile on my face.

That comment drew back the attention of Varric, Solas following suit as he did a double-take to recognize me. My ears tilted backwards a little, holding up the folder with a somewhat shaky voice. “T-The bindings a-and gold leaf are a mid-century Elven. Did . . . did you make them?” My question was aimed at the shorter male of the two, his deep laugh making my ears slink deeper in mild embarrassment.

“No not me. I’m better with a pen and paper, not glue and scissors. Chuckles here is the artiste.”

Professor Harel set a hard glare at Professor Tethras, keeping it there for a few moments as the dwarf smirked. Finally he gave way first with yet another sigh, deeper this time as he turned to address me. He waited, as if seeing if I would speak first? I took the bait. “T-They are beautiful.” I repeated, damning my words again and again. I should have known they were his work, I recognized the same work on my Professor's crimson folders from the day before.

“Ma serannas, Miss.Lavellan.” He tilted his head in a small bow, the heated build up from Varic dropping away with a slight smile. “Where did you learn to notice such styles? Our class has not gone over ancient artistic styles yet. Did you read ahead?”

“Our Mother is Dalish.” Merrill answered proudly, grinning like the cat that ate the canary. Our little sister was always proud that Deshanna was Dalish. At this point both Varric and Solas were intertwined into our conversation, the elf seeming . . . hesitant. Merrill went on. “Ellana is going to be her first soon, so she always watches what mother does. Right?”

“Well I wouldn’t-”

My words were cut off by the eager voice of the dwarven Professor. “Dalish, huh? A Keeper and everything. I didn’t think your people come to the cities all that much.”

“Indeed.” Professor Harel added, his blue eyes aimed right at me intently. For some reason I felt like dashing away and hiding.

“M-Mother, Deshanna Lavellan,” I went on to explain, speaking fast as to try and get everything out and over with. “, moved here after her clan broke apart. T-Too many of them had different ideas for what to do with themselves, or at least that is what she told me. She was lonely without her clan, so t-that lead to me and Merrill and Fenris being adopted.” Merrill was still beaming with pride while Fenris seemed to shy away from the recognition.

“I see. Does your Keeper enjoy teaching you misconstrued and outdated information?” Solas had asked with a rather bitter bite, brows creased darkly as he looked at me. I felt my skin go cold, Merrill’s smile seemed to die out, and Fenris’s presence went deathly tight. Deshanna had always told us that the Dalish ideals were never popular, and many people would see them as mere made-up fantasy, but I didn’t think I would ever meet one such person. 

“Hey there chuckles, I didn’t raise the flag for a debate. Look, I even brought it with me.” Varic held up yet another crimson decoration that must be the trigger for all debates. “You didn’t even give the poor girl a chance to turn your opposition around for good measure! Bad play chuckles.”

“Well, should one wish to join the debate team they must be ready for unexpected confrontation. It is what we teach them, no?” My Professor never took his gaze off me, causing my skin to chill into a frigid ice. “So, answer how you would in a debate Miss.Lavellan - Does your Keeper-”

“Ar- . . . Ara seranna-ma.” My hands quickly let the Debate Team’s folder fall back onto the table. “Good Day Professors.” And with that I was off, turning on a dime with my walking on a high stepped pace. I wanted nothing more than to be out of the judging rays Solas’s was illuminating. My fingers gripped tightly around my backpack’s straps, eyes lowered as I went to be anywhere other than there. My heart felt as if it were going to burst any second, followed by my lungs and stomach; everything was on fire and tingling in upset.

I was unsure how far I got before Fenris’s hand was on my back, but clearly we had made it to safety where his words could be loud enough for neither past professor’s to hear him. “Ellana . . . breathe.” My breath finally caught up with me, gasping for air at his command. “You did well by not wasting your breath on that . . . fenedhis! But for the Creator’s sake, save it for yourself. Breathe.”

“R-Right. I- . . . Ir abelas, I didn’t mean to.”

“What have you to apologize for? He was at fault, not you. He doesn’t . . . ” Like any good pack leader Fenris took control, his head moving to gentle lay on my shoulder in comfort. “He doesn’t know you or Deshanna, nothing.” What Fenris didn’t know is that Professor Harel probably did know more than he he could fathom - He could know every theory, every contradiction, every flaw that the Dalish writings spoke of. 

And that is what made me want to run, to get away, and to be lost in the pretty lie than face an unfriendly reality. How very Dalish of me. How every introverted of me.

At my silence Fenris’s hold on me grew tighter, more supportive as he added in his own sympatric smile. He knew how much Deshanna meant to me, and I knew how much she meant to him; the pain was equal for both of us. “Come on. Merrill is busy giving them both an earful for the both of us. Let go find something better to occupancy you.” I nodded at Fenris’s suggestion, letting him lead once more as he looped his arm around my own.

Merrill caught up eventually, going on and on about how Professor Tethras played arbiter for she and Professor Harel, the two elves butting heads rather heavily at the Dalish beliefs and lifestyles. I could feel my inner anxiety building up higher and higher as Merrill went on with telling me how angry Solas had gotten, which made him fault somewhat for the dwarf to intervene and offer her a formal invitation to the debate team.

“Wouldn’t you prefer something maybe . . . I don’t know, less confrontational?” Fenris asked with a raised brow inquisitively. “Maybe the yoga club?”

Merrill shook her head, all the little pigtails wiggling in unison. “No, I do enough of that at home. I figured it is time for me to take more serious past times.”

“That is alright, b-but if you could maybe not yell at Professor Harel again?” I spoke with a nervous quiver, eyes begging for the answer I knew I would not hear.

“It’s the debate club, lethallan - yelling is going to be the main thing ”

“Oh for Creator’s sake Merrill, he is one of my teachers!”

“Oh . . . well then you might-um-heh. Ir abelas!” Merrill clamped her hands together and bowed her head at my guttural despair; my deep sigh seemed to bring her down even further. It wasn’t like he could fail me based on what my sister had said or done, but it could make taking the professor’s class slightly harder.

“It’s fine . . . but if he gives me extra homework you’re doing it” Merrill made a small whimper at my words while Fenris chuffed happily. “A-Anyways, you both have found something that interests you, but I f-find my hands empty.” Honestly at the time I was very thankful not to have found anything engaging, wanting nothing more than the day to truly begin and head to class, but I knew my siblings would not let me off the hook that easily.

“Oh, I’m sure we can find something. Erm.” Merrill tapped the Debate Team’s folder to her chin, looking about at the remaining stalls. There weren’t many left, but what was there had been my saving grace. “What about that one?” She pointed to an overly pink booth with white flowers and silver tensile.

“The Performing Arts?” Fenris tilted his head at reading the banner, an unsure frown creased his lips.

I was not one to stand out and make noise, hidden from the world and enjoying my solitude . . . but what Merrill had said but moments ago echoed in my head. About how she was going to attempt something more serious, in comparison to her normal self. It was stepping out of her personal bubble, breaking her boundaries and limits. If she could do it, muster the courage required, then perhaps I could have . . .

I studied the booth from afar at first, trying to size up the two women in attendance and the other students littered about and around the site.

Ms. Leliana Gale, nicked named Nightingale after her hauntingly beautiful musical skills both with instruments and her vocals, stood with a welcoming presence; red hair like honey in the daylight. The human was natural in both her attire and looks, dressed in mostly corals and worn down blue-jean. On top of that she wore silver jewelry and a small braid tucked in her fiery locks. Over all she reminded me of a country singer. Her smile was kind and warm, the accent a delight to listen to.

Next to Ms.Gale stood someone who could have been mistaken for foreign nobility, Madame de Fer; Professor Vivienne Ghislain. Between her magnificent bone structure and high fashion choices one could not have help but feel . . . petty in comparison, and she knew it. Her clothes were the top styles and colors, swirling silvers along dark leathers, everything seeming to fit perfectly on her tall and elegant form. Her profile was outstanding against the shaved head and long neck, lips plump and paired with piercing brown eyes. It was safe to say I stood in awe the first time seeing Professor Ghislain, perhaps more mesmerized then I had been by Mr.Pavus. 

The booth, as much as I wished to see more and read more, was packed with layer after layer of eager girls; all asking questions and taking down notes - impossible for me to slip in without shoving and drawing attention to myself. It was clear that many of those young girls hoped they had enough talent to be picked up by an onlooking watching agency, become famous, make the hard cash to retire before 30, and stay famous even after they died.

Between all their busy bodies all that I could see of the display, all that I really needed to see, was a small, portable TV monitor playing a segment of some sort of competition. I knew not the name of the actual performance but I knew the style of dancing, ballet. The female on the screen was so dainty, so lean, fast to her kicks and tall in the spins.

I was hypnotized, and Fenris caught note. “Shall I get you a pamphlet?”

“Huh?” Before I could give a true response Fenris was on his way to the bustling girls. 

He knew what I wanted, taking charge to get it for me. The girls grew abruptly silent as the boy entered their zone, even going so far as to move out of his way; as if he were a plague ridden hound. Or perhaps they were just surprised, who could tell? I stood too far back to pick up any of the conversation between my brother and the two Teachers, but I could easily read the look of surprise as he went to reach for the ballet booklet. Professor Ghislain commented on something with a slyly curious smile set with pearly white teeth, but Fenris merely bowed and gave his thanks.

He returned, but kept the information in his own hands; speaking while holding it in view. “You owe me.”

“I do, heh.” I attempted to take the paper away, but he retracted it; smirking his own charming smirk. “Hey! Fork it over.”

“Maybe Later.”

“Fenris!” My anger only made him snort out a chuckle.

**. . .**

As the day went on, so did my classes – Early Tevinter History, AP Statistics with , Art History, and for what I could only have assumed picked out of scheduling options . . . Morden Elven Genealogy. Little no surprise room D7 came into view and my breath seemed to catch itself in a figurative cage. Given how my Ancient Elven History class was taught by Professor Harel it was almost devastatingly assured he would also be instructing this course as well.

My eyes dreaded to look at my schedule, knowing well and good that his name would be there, reading his name as I felt a hand pat my shoulder; jolting in surprise at the touch. “Oh! Jumpy one aren’t you?” The tanned hand moved off my person as suddenly as it appeared, slipping back into silk lined pockets. “Ellana Lavellan.”

“P-Professor Pavus.” I turned to face him, bowing my head in greeting. “Can I help you?”

“Yes, yes you might.” He gave his own head bow, raising it back up with a curious grin. “Early this day I was in the teacher’s lounge, sipping a tad of tea, eating a crumble of a biscuit, when I heard the most interesting tale.” The human Professor walked ahead, beckoning me to follow him. And like the good student I obeyed, drawing ever closer to D7 and D8. 

He continued. “What was told to me that this morning, during the extracurricular activity tour, at Debate Team’s table to be exact, a rather boisterous battle was had between a teacher and a student. From what I was able to pick up the student held her ground to the last word, a Lavellan!” Professor Pavus peeked up his smile more at saying my surname, obviously wishing his assumption was correct. “I knew that name, I knew that girl – my Lavellan, was it not?”

It seemed he was hopping for me to randomly bloom into the rosy motivational speaker of this semester – he would be sorely disappointed. As I shook my head the glow of his glee dimmed slightly, more confused than anything. “Then . . . it wasn’t you?”

“No Sir, it was my Sister. Merrill Lavellan.”

“Ah, I see . . . such a shame. I was hoping to bestow you some extra credit for getting my dearest elven colleague so ruffled. He was in such a-”

“Attempting to make blackmail, Professor?” The voice of Mr.Harel came from behind me and my body went stiff.

Dorian Laughed, a hand placed over his heart. “Oh it strikes at me so to think you look upon me in such light! Me? Blackmail? Perish the thought!”

“Then you would not mind I collect my student before she is marked tardy?”

“Of course not!” Professor was almost too sweet in his leaving, the smile defiantly forced as he turned away; D8’s door closing behind him.

I remained perfectly still as I had been trapped, eyes moving to Mr. Harel; to mixed with different emotions to portray anything specific to him. Fear, surprise, anxious, anger, disappointment? Either way he smiled and motioned for his own classroom, my body obeying once again without question; rushing to the seat I had sat in last time. 

His smile tossed me off . . . surely he was still angry of what had happened at the booth? If not at me personally, then indirectly due to Merrill’s attitude? Whatever reasoning I was already awaiting an after class talk about it.

Sera was there again, oddly enough, waiting in the seat she had also taken before; a questing crook of mischief aimed at me. I sat without a word, drawing out my texts and pencils.

“Good afternoon class.”

“Good afternoon Professor.”

The first two days of the week were meant for introductions to the classes, and not much was different then the Ancient Elven Introduction went sat side-by-side to the AP curriculum; a bit more detailed perhaps and more physical projects. They went hand in hand at least.

I attempted to pay attention, but between the professor’s eyes and Sera’s constant notes I found it impossible.

‘teachers pet’ 

‘What?’

‘U, teachers pet! Walkin n w/mr.uptight’ – next to that was a poorly doodled picture of Professor Harel.

‘What about it?’

‘only ass kissers and goody-2-shoes do tht shite’

‘I was caught between him and Professor Pavus.’

‘kinky LOL’

‘Not like that. Shame Shame!’ – I attempted to draw a disappointed caricature of myself.

‘oh yes shame me and me wicked ways~ like it like that~’

I had to admit, despite her terrible first impression and bold fashion choices . . . Sera was not that bad of a person. She was opinionated and out there in the world, living it and not letting it live her. In a way - Sera was a combination of Fenris and Merrill, and it comforted me.

‘so, n trouble or somethin?’ 

‘No, not really. More like . . . on the fence.’

‘never heard of that position before. Who was toppin?’

‘Is everything a sexual pun for you?’

‘most everythin lol’

‘Oh joy! Question: Did your Mother make you take this class? Like before?’

‘better question: he scream out ELVEN GLORY when you diddle with him?’

‘I swear I’ll turn in this note and bring you down with me should you ask another dirty thing!’

‘oh alright! calm down pet, no need 2 bite me. Meant no harm 2 yer owner~’

I was in the middle of writing my response when the bell rang, my shot distance pen pal snatching it out from under me with the darkest laugh I had ever heard. “Later Levy! HeHeHeHe!”

“OH! You little-!”

“Miss.Lavellan, a word?” I knew his voice and knew what to do. The walk of shame to his desk felt like the longest I had ever taken, even more then I had when Deshanna wanted to know who broke into the cookie Jar. Were I a dog my tail would have been tucked so far in my skirt and my ears flat against my shaking head.

“Yes . . . Sir?”

Mr. Harel closed his book and looked to me, the smile form before long gone and replaced with . . . a shard of shame? Shame? No I had to have read it wrong, but as he spoke I knew it rang true; echoing in every word and breath. “This morning I fear I was very unpleasant. I made remarks that would, on any account, build a quick dislike. Forgive me, I was out of term.”

“Oh . . . i-it’s alright, Sir.” My proverbial tale was untucking itself at his words. “Nobody's perfect – not you, not me, not the Dalish, not anyone. I am sorry if Merrill took a few verbal swings at you.”

He chuckled softly, shaking his head with a seeded grin. “Yours sister’s words were not nearly as foreboding as what I get from the Board of Directors. She will be a good addition to the Debate team, Varric could hardly contain his own excitement.”

“That’s good then!” My mind went back to the first time Professor Harel had called me to his desk, mimicking him with my own chipper jesting. “Should Miss.Lavellan interfere with your studies I wish for you to tell me immediately.” I was rewarded with an actual laugh from my Professor, my worry melting away at the hearty sound. “I all seriousness though I have to warn you, Merrill can be a bit much and get taken away with herself.”

“A good thing then that at our club meetings. We teach self-discipline and social timing.”

“Perhaps then it would be good to learn from your own teachings?” My attempted humor had his lips pressed hard together, a single reddish brow raised slightly; a warning. “Sorry Sir.”

“I can at least see where she gets her quick wit from.” The tenderness returned instantly, his attention put downwards while collecting his things. “That will be all, Miss.Lavellan.”

“Of course Sir. Ma serannas.” I bowed my head for a final time before turning away. I added while exiting. “See you in the parking lot, Hahren!” Before I could even guess the expression he put on me I was out of sight and running towards the car.

**. . .**

Sure enough we hard parked in the same two roles, farthest away from the gates and closer to the park beyond. This time I had beat both Merrill and Fenris to our Sedan, eyes drilled to the gate for either sign of siblings or Solas. Siblings came first, shortly followed by the older Elf. As we settled into the car I gave a last look to my professor, who was looking right back at me; his eyes squinting hard as the sun beat down at him. From a distance my blush went unnoticed and I waved. Professor Harel returned the gesture before ducking out of sight.

With a lump in my throat and rhythm set to my heart I buckled in, turning the key in the ignition. I had expected a nice, relaxing, contemplative drive home . . . but after not hearing the roaring purr of the engine the idea popped. I tried again, turning the key with a harder twist. Nothing.

Fenris and Merrill waited in silence, eyes steadily going wide as the car gave no signs of life. We had jumper cables, but no extra engine for the boost. My eyes flashed to the rear view mirror, seeing Professor Harel just starting to pull out of his space. “Fenris . . .”

“Yes?”

“Chase that car!”

“Wha-OUF! Hey!” I literally pushed him out the car, rolling onto the asphalt with a loud thud; definitely a few scratches and bumps to go with the fall. But that kicked started his own internal engine, sprinting to catch my Professor’s car before the teacher could escape to the open road..

Merrill and I waited till both Fenris and the blue vehicle returned to our side, all members stepping out of their respective cars. Solas was the first to speak. “Miss.Lavellan, car problems?”

“Yes sir.” I waved for Fenris to come to my side, the smaller male slumping against a door. “This is Fenris, my brother. I hope he didn’t scare you too badly as I sent him after you?”

“Not at all.” Mr. Harel had his car’s lid popped, an engine that might have been worse off than the exterior brought to light. “You are in need of a jump start?”

“Yes Sir.” I worked on popping my own lid as Merrill went to hand the cables to the Professor. I heard a little conversation between the two, apologizes on both ends, leaving my sister with a happy smile. “I think the starter is about to die. This is not the first time she’s given out.”

“She?” Solas asked.

“Um, the car Sir. Sorry, I uh . . . sometimes give genders to things with realizing it.” A broken and raspy laugh came from myself, rubbing the back of my neck to try and help settled the oncoming butterflies.

“She’s always done it. All the boys on our block thought it was cute, heh.” Merrill added softly before making her way back to my side, watching Fenris and Solas work on hooking the two engines together. 

It took several attempts before the Sedan sparked to life, a few fidgets and fiddles later, and all was good to go. “Oh, thank you, Sir! Ma serannas, Sir!”

“Solas.” He stated.

“What?”

“I am not your Sir when classes are over. Solas will do.”

“Uh, of course Si-I mea-uh-Solas . . . thank you.” I was for sure that my blush was showing this time to where he could see it embarrassingly clear, ears folding down against my head. “See you in class tomorrow?”

“But of course. Good day to you all.” He nodded to my siblings, who nodded back.

At the stop light this time I was was behind the Professor, his blinker going left as ours was going right. I sighed at the different directions, trying not to make it obvious that I was attempting to look at Solas in his rear view mirror. 

“ . . . Are you trying to look like a stalker?” Fenris asked from his seat.

“What? No! I just-”

“Maybe she has a crush on him!” Merrill did not help.

“No! It is not a crush, I’m just . . . curious . . . is all. What is so wrong with being curious?”

“Ever wondered what happened to the cat that got too curious?” I could hear the teasing strong in my Brother’s question. “Spoiler: It didn’t end well.”

“I’ll be careful.”

“Can someone be careful when stalking?” Merrill really, really, wasn’t helping; purposefully attempting to rile me up at that point. She was almost as bad as Fenris, perhaps a tad worse.

“Well . . . Yes, but it isn’t stalking!”

“Sure it’s not.” Fenris added before I could berate him with a blackslap of my hand to his arm, laughing the whole time at each lash. “No matter how much you beat me it’s not the same as you wanting to beat him-Ouch! Heh-OH!”

I halted in the assault, taking the steering wheel in my hands again as the light flashed green. As expected Professor Harel turned left, and we went right; the last sign of him I saw being a slender hand adjusted one of his side view mirrors - our gazes meeting in that small second; sticking with me till I fell asleep later that eve. Still, even in my dreams I could not be rid of his eyes, watching me, studying me, and I adored every moment.


	3. Dean’s Assembly

**Chapter Three – Dean’s Assembly**

That first week trudged on - Tuesday melting into Wednesday, and Wednesday melting into Thursday. As Friday rolled around I could tell Fenris was ready for the weekend; heavily disgruntled as we all waited for the school assembly to start. The white haired fellow never did well in High School, most of his mornings back then spent resisting me as I would literally have to drag him out the door. College was tad easier, no dragging, but the scowl on his face was just as demeaning.

“This is childish.” Fenris commented, stuck between myself and Merrill.

“Oh, I don’t know if I would say childish if not more . . . well . . . at least it's colorful!” Merrill tried to cheer him up, but most of her attention put to the banners and posters placed all along the walls of the enormous gymnasium; all very vibrant and themed of Kirkwall’s emblems. 

I had known from before that the school was fairly human orientated, most elves needing big time scholarships or highly decelerated recommendations to even think of attending places like Kirkwall, but I guess I overestimated my race’s enrollment rates. I couldn’t see another elf for three rolls up or down. I knew Sera would have to be in the masses somewhere, a few more from Professor Harel’s classes, the Professor himself, but other than that . . .

“Excuse me.” I looked up to me left to see a familiar face, not an elf, but he certainly could pass like one with those soft features. “May I sit here?”

“Uh, sure.” I nodded and moved my bag off the bleacher, letting Cole take the seat.

“Thank you.” Now that the boy was closer, I was able to study him a bit better than I had been able to in Mr.Pavus’s class.  
Cole wore a style that I could only compare to a living quilt, a mix of patches and layers varying from all sorts of fabrics; golds with reds, blues and greens, brown stitches and suede leathers . His odd patterns were complete with frayed jeans and red sneakers. Hats were not allowed to be worn indoors, but with the few times I had seen him outside Cole wore the most . . . unusual hats. Today I eyed a hint of one of those said hats, it’s dark trim peeking out from a woolen, drawstring backpack.

“You’re name is an old one.” Cole spoke to me, I think; he wasn’t looking at me at all.

“What?” I tried to see the face under all his white blonde hair, but all that poked out was a pink nose and thin lips.

“Lavellan.” Those sky blue eyes turned at me, blinking slowly. “It is a very old name.”

“Ah-uh, yeah I guess it is. O-Our Mother came from the Free Marches, I think.”

“That may where she came from, but the name is even older.” Cole smiled, something in that expression tad unsettling. 

“I suppose so . . .” I went on, trying to make a small conversation with the human; he was a classmate of mine after all and in class he had been nothing but polite to me. “All elven blood is old, a-and the names that go with them go beyond written record. Professor Harel says-”

“The Dread Wolf?”

“Pardon?”

“Professor Harel’s name: Solas Fen’Harel. He shortens it to Harel.” Cole tilted his head in a curious manner, as if he was surprised I had not caught the Elven translation; which shamefully I did not. “Fen’Harel is even older than Lavellan. It means Dread Wolf.”

“Ah.” I nodded and thought for a moment if it was still too late to transfer out of one of my current classes for an introductory course to Elven Language. I had never been too focused on the mini lessons Deshanna gave me as a girl, but now even if a human boy knew more Elven than me . . . I felt a stab of guilt; an uncomfortable sensation. 

“Don’t feel bad.” One of Cole’s ghostly white hands moved to pat my shoulder, a contact that I didn’t shy from. “I don’t think he likes his own name. It upsets him. He won’t mention it.”

“Mr.Harel?” Cole nodded at my question. “Why?”

“You’re in his Ancient Elven History class, right?” It was my turn to nod, waiting for his response. Cole continued to smile, speaking and turning his gaze forward again. “You’ll learn in Chapter 24.” That wasn’t ominous at all. On the mention of my Professor my gaze went outwards to the assembly again, searching.

With his bald head it didn’t take long for me to find him, front role to the far right; way beyond me getting his attention. His suite today was a light green color, almost grey, paired with a yellow tie, dark brown vest, and the same dulled oxfords shoes he wore everyday. Surely as a teacher working at such a pristine school like Kirkwall Solas could afford some new shoes? 

A small frown spread over my expression thinking about that . . . maybe I could afford to buy him a new pair one day.

“Stalking again?” Fenris’s smug voice broke my thoughts. 

“No.” He caught me, again.

“Just sightseeing then?” The smugness doubled in his tone, followed by a trademark smirk. 

“Oh! Can we see him from here?” Merrill added her own tease into the conversation, head twirling all about trying to find the target.

“Please stop.” I gruffed and hid my face in my hands, another blush creeping over my face. I was not stalking my Professor, I was not stalking my Professor, I was not stalking my Professor!

Before either sibling could say anything else the band kicked in, railing up the School’s theme song in a trumpeting sound of winds and percussion. I thanked the Creator’s for their mercy and started to sing along, Merrill taking cue and joining in with all the other students. 

After the fanfare was over a small speech given by the lead Disciplinarian of Kirkwall, one Mrs. Calpernia Venatori; Tevinter through and through. Bucked teeth and ashy hair might have gained her a rather aged look to some people, but her face was to unique to call her anything but beautiful; natural and pale with freckles all about.

Her dark, sleek, fancy corset-like suite was tightly trimmed around her narrow body; reminding me of a shimmering shard of obsidian; almost glossy all over. Mrs. Venatori walked around in heels that almost looked like knifes and her jewelry was just as jagged; silver and polished to perfection. On her collar was an ornate dragon brooch, a symbol of her heritage. 

The woman’s voice was thick with an accent of her homelands, trained with extreme pronunciation to annonciate her vowels and consonants; words rolling off her tongue almost otherworldly. “And now, without further delay,” Her smile was absolutely charming “, I welcome to the stage our most esteemed colleague, newly elected Dean, and Professor of New Age Sciences, Mr. Corypheus Dumat.”

Dean Dumat was a big man. Not only big with his towering height and full width, but his form was stacked with well toned muscles; long hands and heavy footsteps making him almost giant-like. His face was jutted and defined like freshly broken rocks, jagged yet weirdly smooth, with long features and small eyes; dragon-esc. Thin lips paired with a square jaw and high cheekbones made the Dean almost malefactor, but his smile was far from malicious. 

He gave the Lady Disciplinarian a hearty handshake and bow of his head before taking lead of the podium; large digits curling about the oak stand. “Greetings and salutations to all gathered here today. It brings me great joy,” His voice was deep, as expected, and was the match to Mrs.Vanatori’s, Tevinter. “, and fills me with pride in knowing that Thedas’s best students have gathered here again; bringing with you a great promise for yet another productive semester.”

The Dean went on for a while, giving special attention to the incoming Freshmen and departing Seniors, even playing a small prepared video on a fold out screen that gave a brief synopsis of Kirkwall’s history. During it all I could not help but watch Professor Harel, stunned to see that he was . . . napping? 

No, surely a teacher would not nap so nonchalantly out in a public event? A school event? At the school that pays him? Literally sleeping on the job? Really? Sleeping outside on a break was one thing, understandable even with my own history of sleeping out in the hammock back home, but this felt rather rude on Mr.Harel’s part. I let it slip from my mind with a sigh, attention put back on the Dean as he made his closing statement.

**. . .**

After the assembly the day dragged on, classes steam rolling in and out of my head till I reared room D7, my classmate waiting to greet me. “Hello Levy!”

“Hello Sera. You got here before me, for once. D-Dare I ask that this is your turning over a new page?” I grinned at her.

“Nah, just eager to fuckin’ get it over with.”

As usual sera sat beside me, Greetings were exchanged between Professor and Students, and notes were passed. I had to admit I enjoyed Sera’s company. She was so much like the children back home I helped take care of, but with a fouler mouth and more human than elf; something I think she took pride in that fact. 

‘ever wonder wht he’d look like w/hair?’

‘The Professor?’

‘bald bastards tend 2 have tht hole x-bad-boi shite 2 them. Think he was n an all elfy gang?’

‘I would lean towards maybe rebellious teenager then gang groupie, something less dangerous. Maybe braids or dreads.’

‘EH! now theres a idea. think he had 2cut them off 2 work?’

‘Dreads? Idk, maybe?’

‘be a disraction 2 others, yeah? dreads r hooot!’

‘Sera, do not fill my head with any more fantasies. But . . . do I look like the type of girl that gets hot and bothered by hair?’

‘nah, u look more like the girl who-’

Tak. Tak. Tak.

It was the wooden pointer tapping on the surface of the desk that brought our eyes upwards, a very upset Professor Harel looking at us; mostly Sera since she was the one writing. We paused, he glared; paper and pen breaking contact as the man held out his thin hand. There was something in his stare that made my gut go cold, mind meek, nerves shot, but Sera seemed steadfast in the wake.

“Sir Elfy?” Her smile was wide and exaggerated; testing just how far she could push the professor. 

“Professor Harel,” He corrected, hand still waiting. “And if you would be so kind . . .”

The standoff between Teacher and Pupil made my hair stand on end, but Sera eventually caved under the weight of Solas’s eyes; handing over the note with a hard sigh. I could only feel deep regret as the older elf read over our exchange, his shapely brows raising here and there as he skimmed over the crinkled page. Finally he spoke to us, like culprits. “You shall both remain in your seats after class. Understood?”

“Yes Professor.” My voice was more forthcoming than Sera’s, my imaginary dog tail tucking again. 

He walked away and the lesson continued. Sera dealt with her own internal shame with completely avoiding the class, eyes down on her lap and muttered to herself. I caught several “fucks” and “shites” and one “elfy overlord”. 

When the bell came however Sera and I both snapped to attention, apparently the idea of remaining there had seemed to slip Sera’s mind as she went to bounce up out of her seat. A quick grab at her red hoodie and I had my conspirator back down into her seat. “Oh no you don’t! I like you sera, but not enough to take all the blame.”

“Ugh! Fine!” Sera gruffed and waited with me, the crimson color of her hood hiding blocking out the sight of Professor Harel’s stare. 

Meanwhile all my mind could think of was the terrible note he would give me to hand over to Deshanna, my brain already seeing the disapproval on her sweetly wrinkled face - the repercussions several added chores on top of my basic labor and schedule. I was doomed, but perhaps I could go down in a blaze of glory rather than submission. I blamed Sera’s daily influence on the idea.

“Explanations?” He asked, holding the note up for us to see again.

“Well,” Sera spoke so casually, shrugging a little. “, it’s paper. With some words on it. Nothing special, right Levy?” At his sigh I knew her tactic was not working. The professor had a sense of humor, but she didn’t know how to please it.

The Professor’s gaze moved to me, waiting for either the breaking or an alternative answer. At this point I gave it all or nothing. “We . . .were passing that note back and forth, Sir.” 

“As I could tell. You barely took notes for the actual lesson.”

“That . . is also true, but . . . I don’t think passing a note in class is nearly as bad as falling asleep during the Dean’s speech.” My teeth bit hard the inside of my cheek, watching the Teacher’s eyes widen at my words and Sera gawking in my peripheral vision. “We could let bygones be bygones, admit we all faulted i-in some way, and move on with equal terms?” 

“Is this your form of blackmail, Mss.Lavellan?” His tone was almost . . . playful. 

“I would call it more ‘passive aggressive negotiations’, Sir.” It might have pushed the game to far, played the wrong move, but Professor Harel’s small content chuckle gave way for the waves of relief. I could still feel Sera’s disbelief, her silence louder than her sideways looks. 

“And what would be the lessons gained in such a compromise?”

“We . . . would never pass notes again in your class, if you never fall asleep at a school assembly again? Both actions are disrespectful, and uhh . . . we need to respect our superiors?” 

“Hm. Are these terms agreeable, Miss.Emmald?” He asked the stunned blonde, her head rapidly nodding at his question. “Very well then. A deal, and a warning. You may go.”

“Thank you Professor.” It was I this time who sprang to the door quickest, Sera not far behind. 

Before I could turn to face her the girl had thrust all her weight onto my back, thin arms wrapped around my neck in the backwards hug. I gagged but her words were limitless in her thanks. “You were so sly in there Levy! You stood Senior Snoody down like the bullet of a gun, you did! You mate, are my hero – Marry me!” 

Sera even went so far as to follow me to my car, Fenris and Merrill watching us approach from afar. She asked a few yards out under her breath. “Family?”

“Yes. My brother and sister.”

“Funny. They don’t look a thing like you.”

“Heh, with good reason. We are all adopted.”

“Oh . . .” Something in Sera’s expression seemed to drop at that, the fire under her ass dying down ever so.

“I can introduce you if you want?”

“Maybe another time, yeah? Bye Levy.” Before I could contest she was off, bee-bag bouncing at her back while running away. At times I thought I understood Sera, and then other times not so much. One second she could be a bubbling fountain of enthusiasm, joyful and unabashed, and then she could be so reluctant like a river in a dry season; aversive and blocked. And the change was always quick, snappy, a well-trained transition. Something in that thought unsettled me, but I would leave it be for now; letting my friend run away to a rather . . . impressive limousine. It looked a higher model, sleek and innovative with chrome details. Even the sound it’s engine made when driving away purred like a pampered cat. 

“Who was that?” Merrill asked, watching the car drive away.

“Sera. Sera Emmald.”

“The Bee Girl?” Fenris knew her by the nickname I gave her. 

“Yep.” With my nod I let the subject drop. “The bee girl . . .”

“Why is it you call her ‘The Bee Girl’?” My sister asked, hopping into the back seat after gently tossing in her backpack. 

“She-”

“Miss.Lavellan!” His voice rang out across the parking lot, the three of us eyeing over at Professor Harel as we waved a notebook into the air. I blushed at his shouting, instantly getting out of the car and jogged to meet my teacher.

“Professor? Are you ok?” He was painting as I approached, as if he had been running.

“I am," He took a moment to catch his breath ", quite alright. However you might not have been had you left this behind.” The notebook he had been waving belonged to me, a smile written on his face as he looked upon it’s deep blue cover. “Not that today’s lesson would be in here in the first place.” The pearlescent digits still held to my property, turning it over to show the hidden sketches on the back; ballerinas I had drawn the day before. 

“S-Sorry Si-” I remember his words from earlier that week. ‘I am not your Sir when classes are over’. I corrected myself. “-Solas. I’ll keep better hold of it in the future.”

“In that we can agree. Did you happen to draw these?” He noted my little dinky pictures.

“Um, Yes. T-They are that good to be honest. I just drew them randomly.

“ . . .They have a good motion. You can see it in the lines.” His smile was soft in the afternoon sun, returning the notebook to me. “Did you study the figures from a book?”

“Uh, No. It was actually a-uhh . . . a TV show. Some old human ballet.”

“Hm. Did you enjoy the performance?”

“Honestly? I felt a bit . . . clunky.”

“Heh, most human dance tends to be such. Perhaps . . . should you read ahead in our texts; chapter 16 might hold something that interests you. Gooday, Miss.Lavellan.”

“G-Gooday Professor . . .” I was left watching the man walk away to his own car, opposite of ours; the blush remaining on my face. I had half the mind to rush back to the safety of our vehicle and pull out my textbook right then and there, but with Fenris’s and Merrill’s eyes on me it wouldn’t feel right. I needed to do that in private, a secret given to me and me only; well . . . until the class would read it, but that was not the point!

With all seat-belts buckled I drove off ahead of the Professor, stopping at the light once more. I could almost feel the burning need to comment coming from my siblings, tease and tatter, but they knew better by now. Last time Fenris got himself a got whoop on the back of his head.

“Well . . . that was nice of him.” Merrill said softly, pink lips forming into a cautions grin and looked over to Fenris. “Right?” His ears bent downward at her question, the male looking away and giving a small shrug as his only answer. “Hm . . . he seems to care about his students, at least.”

“You mean the little amounts of students he has? I wouldn’t blame him for being so scrupulous.” I thought back to the scarce audiences for his classes. With me and Sera added to the mixture I could count maybe 13 students total in my head, spanning both AP Elven History and AP Elven Genealogy. Who knows, maybe if he taught other classes that didn’t focus so directly on the Elven aspects others would sign up for his classes.

Then again . . . if he didn’t teach us about our history, our lineages, our ancestor’s struggles, then who would? No card carrying Dalish Teacher would be allowed in Kirkwall with the Dean being Tevinter running the place, no matter how nice the negotiations would be. 

“He just . . . he just watches out for us, you know?” I gave a quick look into the rear view once more, seeing the silhouette of Solas’s head in his own car. “Besides it’s not like I left behind something private he could have gendered at, just a notebook.”

“Had it been something else? What then? Like your purse?” My Brother asked, an ice cold glare beaming out from under white hair.

“Well for one, I don’t own a purse. And secondly, I would have been very grateful; more so then for any notebook. What’s your point Fenris?”

“The point is that teachers are too easy to trust and sometimes end up being the worst kind of people.” Merrill and I gave quick looks to each other as Fenris continued. “They are supposed to help you, build up trust, get really personally and upfront with you; it’s their damn job. Some . . . Some are decent people, others are just in for the control high.”

“So you’re saying . . .that Professor Harel is a creepy old pervert . . . who has the notion to somehow, what, use me for his own creepy perverted ends?” I questioned Fenris, driving off on the green and away from the school.

“Not . . . necessarily. He just doesn’t read right to me and . . . and I want you to b-”

“In other words our little white wolf is watching out for his pack.” Merrill giggled into her response, Fenris’s ears lowering all the way flat knowing that she hit the mark on the head.

**. . .**

Home was not far off, a short stop at the laundromat and grocery store the only stops to make before eyeing the little white house.

It was not that impressive abode, but had its own unique charm with flowered ivy and blue shutter doors. The façade had a screened deck with grey steps and a dim porch light, complete with colorful roses in their bushes; acting as jewelry for the house to wear. The lawn could have used a cut, but even its unkempt state it was littered with beauty; small dandelions and purple buds poking up in stalks of the thick grasses.  
We had no garage to park the car in, but instead a small awning that came off one side of the house, faded red and white stripes bleached on the plastic as it took the full frontal blast of sunlight day in and day out. And finally there was a metal mailbox that would go crooked each day, no matter how much Fenris would fiddle with it.

As we pulled up to our house I could see the children and Deshanna were settled on a large blanket in the front lawn; snacking and doing homework in the remaining daylight. At seeing Fenris, Merrill, and myself returning from school they left their books and pencils to rush over to us. Home sweet home.

Merrill was given the most love and hugs from the little girls, Fenris ruffled the black hair of Trevelyan who was showing off a drawing of a wolf he had done, and I received help from Evelyn with the groceries. I did a headcount of all who gathered . . .

Evelyn, a bright 13 year old with a very soft and helpful nature; a tender smile blooming under golden blonde hair. Her parents were lost in a car wreck, but despite her sadness Evelyn was always ready to lend a hand. I had to admit that Evelyn was special to me, my little mini me and my favorite of all the youngsters.

Trevelyan was a tad touched in the head, requiring bit more one-on-one attention, but it only added to his tender and lovable personality. We had actually just celebrated Trevelyan’s 11th birthday about a week ago and his favorite present was a sketchbook; complete with colored pencils and markers. The boy never stopped drawing since, our refrigerator covered in his artwork. Like Evelyn was to me, Trevelyan was a favorite to Fenris; a brotherly bond there that could last ages.

The twins Mahanon and Malika, 10 year old girls who did everything sanely possible to be as dirty as possible; little pointy ears either covered in dirt or some sort of sticky gum at least four hours out of a day. They had ended up being taken away from their mother because she was neglectful. When Fenris was in a playing mood all three could be found in the backyard, rolling about and wrestling; getting all sorts of messy.

Maxwell was a half elf - His Elven mother was left all alone after her human husband was sent to prison. From what Dehsanna told me, Max’s mother did all she could to raise her small infant on her own, but the financial and mental strain was too much for the young woman. She gave Maxwell up for adoption, but because he carried the stigma for being a half-breed the poor lad never got adopted. Finally he was put in foster care and set to live with us, still attempting to come out of his shell. The damage was done, leaving the 7 year old silent and stiff; only giving small nods as signals or shaky points as cues.

Kaaras and Herah were never apart, black and brown haired heads bobbing as they skipped along their days. Both girls were six years old and did everything together - brushed their teeth together, ate together, helped dress each other, and sometimes i kept them napping together; hidden in mounds of shared stuffed animals. They would have made good twins had fate given then the option, but instead both came from broken homes and the only child of each. I suppose in that similarity they become close. 

And finally, held carefully in the arms of our Keeper, was tiny Edric; a big eyed boy with the cutest smile. Edirc’s malnutrition is what drew CPS to his cause, saving him from an abusive step father and wrecked mother. Neither me nor Deshanna wanted reports on how the parents were doing, caring for only Edric’s health and well-being. Like most toddlers he was picky about what he ate, negatively contributing to his underweight issues, so feeding was always an issue. But where there was a will there was a way, and Deshanna found her way.

“Andaran atish'anarla, Da'len.” Our Keeper, our Mother, spoke with that soft and endearing voice of hers; grey eyes calm and smile wrinkled with warm greetings. 

Besides her white hair and dark eyes, there was little about Deshanna that was monotone; dressed daily in bright reds and yellows. Her dresses always had trims of green and blue mixing in vibrant patches, flowing and ruffled about her little frame. Along her boney fingers were shining rings, gems and metals, twisting like elegant tree trunks on her person. She was a rainbow of color and comfort, which made most people feel happy to be around her.

She lead us all inside once the front lawn was cleaned of homework, preparing dinner and having us settle in for the night.

Deshanna and the children were on the first level of the house, Fenris had the basement all to himself, and Merrill and I lived on the second story; really it was just an attic converted into two rooms with a sheet to separate us, but we weren’t choosy. During the days it would be stuffy and somewhat hot in our shared quarters, but with night came a cool breeze from the window; moving into our area with a chilly hello. Merrill did not much care for the upfront temperature so I volunteered to have my bedroom closer to the window.

It was hard to see all the stars at night since we lived in a city, but a few still sparkled in the red-hued nightlife; little diamonds waiting for wondering eyes to sail upwards. I thanked the Creators for letting me catch even the smallest glimpses of the stars, many wishes made possible for a past me in her past depression. When I had first come to live with Deshanna all I did was sit at the window, wishing for something I could not have; begging each star at night to make my desire come true. None however answered, and my wish was never granted. 

That night I found my eyes resting on the constellation called Fenrir, the “White Wolf”. The Irony and coincidence was not lost on me - Fenris was teased at being our own wolf and had been birthed white hair, only adding to his ever-watchful protection over us all; as persistent and brilliant as the stars above. 

Many years ago when Fenris first came to be with myself and Deshanna I had attempted to make small talk about Fenrir, how his parents must have named him in admiration in the constellation. But it only drew a dark rage from a younger Fenris, lashing out at me like a crazed beast. Deshanna asked me after that never to prod him again. Still he grew into our family and into a wonderful person, despite none of us children knowing about his prequel. 

I smiled and drew myself away from the window, closed it and settled the lock in place before walking over to my bed. Merrill’s voice was subtle as it echoed from her side of the sheet-wall, reading a part of her mathematics book; a task I did not envy. A chuckle came to my lips as I heard her curse at a problem and slam the book closed.

Speaking of books.

I let my eye fall to Mr.Harel’s textbook, reaching over to take the heavy book in my lap. Slender fingers slipped into pages and flipped them about, seeking what my professor wished to point out. The bold header of the chapter’s read “Elven Arts: Visual, Lyrical, and Physical”. To my great pleasure I begun to read page after page; feeling as if hours went. Finally I came upon what really tripped my trigger, eyes going wide as I stopped to take in what I saw . . . elven dancers.

Elven Ballerinas.

Lean and luscious. Toned under tautness. Slender and special.

I felt my heart race while overlooking an image of a female elf in the arms of her male counterpart, both dressed in pearly silks and sparkling sequins. They had their own style, their own flare, something burning inside me; a fire building in my chest. I even had trouble breathing at first. In a flurry I went to my TV and flicked it on, putting in a borrowed Library CD; yet another example of Elven Ballets. I waited for the my favorite part of the ballet, and at seeing the dancers again the same feeling overtook my heart; twirling in shinning chiffon as if they were real-life faes on a stage.

I was tearing up before I knew what to do. 

I felt many emotions boiling about internally when taking all this in, an almost bitter yet humbling nostalgia washing over me. My head was light, lungs tight, stomach flipping as it attempted to process what I was feeling. It was almost too much too fully understand, setting most of it on the back-burner in my mind. Watery eyes moved to Professor Ghislain’s pamphlet that sat on my dresser, letting the performance play in the background as I read the piece of folded paper again and again. I let the emotions sink in, gaze moving back and forth between the textbook, the TV, and the pamphlet.

Had I known what Solas had set me on, how deep the influence had stricken me, I would have bared more caution to it all. But in that moment, in that burning passion for the beauty before my eyes, all caution was put to the wind. I would enter The Performing Arts Club and aimed to become the best Ballerina Kirkwall had ever seen.

**Author's Note:**

> WELL . . . we knew this was gonna happen. Another college AU drabble featuring Solvellan, only adding to the pre-existing addctions XD Enjoy~


End file.
